Loving You So Much
by yukiero
Summary: I love him and that's a simple fact. I love doing things for him even no matter how simple it is. I love taking care of him knowing it could be my last.


**Author's Note:** Hey guys. Since it's valentines I decided to upload some stories. I'm really sure if you will like this but I challenge myself to write something for valentines. This story is inspired by a video that I've watch in facebook. I just took some ideas and it turns out to be cliché but still hoping you like it. Something bitter for valentines so that it won't be so boring.

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I love my husband. I love waking up in the morning and stare at his sleeping face before deciding to wake him up. I love cooking him meals and hearing him compliment my cooking. I love smelling his clothes while doing our laundry. I love hearing him mumble things during his sleep at night and giggle at his small antics. I love him so much…but…

 _Ring~_

 _Ring~_

" _Yes," I answered the phone._

" _Hey," I heard my husband's voice at the other line. "I won't be home tonight so don't wait for me. I'll be back at Sunday evening."_

 _Looking at the calendar I understand why he won't be home. It's already weekend. It's his time for her._

" _Okay, take care," I hanged up._

…But…he doesn't love me.

One year ago our family was arrange marriage and he was force to marry me even though he love another girl. He never touched me or mistreated in some ways. He understands that we both don't want this and gives me the respect and privacy that I need. Seeing he is very considerate to me I tried to make it up. I tried fulfilling my duty as a wife until it no longer mattered to me as a duty. I started to love doing things that will make him happy. From knowing his favourite food to his habits and almost anything that I could learn about him, until one day I realize that I've been in love with him.

From the very beginning of our marriage I know that he is still seeing the girl that he loves but I let him. At that time it was a small compensation of what he had done to me. I don't mind but after I realize my feelings I become greedy, I want all his time to be mine. I want him to look at me as a woman, to look at my direction and if possible to love me back. Then I realize that I can't be greedy; I've already taken the chance that they could be together; to declare their love in public but they can't because of me.

I should be content of seeing his sleeping face in the morning. I should be happy that I was able to cook him breakfast before he goes to work. I should feel fortunate to be able to stay with him in the majority of the week. I should be satisfied to wish him good luck as we separate to work or greet him welcome home after a long tiring day but...I'm not. I'm not because...he doesn't treasure me the way he treasure her. Those things mean so little compared of what she could do to him. I make him happy but she can give him joy. I give him comfort but she can give him a home. She can give the things that he needed the most and I'm just a thorn that is blocking their happiness.

…

"Welcome home," I greeted him with a smile. "How was work?"

"Stressful," he mumbled.

"Well good thing for you that I cook your favourite for dinner," I announce with a cheerful voice. "Better clean up while I fix the table."

"Really?!" his face brightens at the information. "I'll be done in a few minutes."

I smiled while looking at my husband's retreating form. I might not be able to give the things that he needs the most; maybe the only things that I can do for him is doing the chores and makes him comfortable. Even though he won't accept my heart even I serve it to him on a silver platter or even recognize my feelings; I want to be someone who is even for a little bit an important person for him, someone who is worthy to stand beside him and maybe win just a piece of his heart.

' _I love you so much.'_

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 **Author's Note:** Okay done. Now that I notice it this story is not directly related to valentines but can't do anything about it since it's done. Hope you like it guys.


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